The HalfBlood
by PingPong Girl
Summary: I used to be gullible.I used to be human. Not until HE converted me into something...impossible. And now I could do unimaginable things, and go to a magic school. With new friends and loves, living as a witch wasn't so bad. Until I learned I was marked.


**Disclaimer: Don't own HP. Duh.**

The Half-Blood

_By: PingPong Girl/BloodyRozze_

Prologue

Descent to Doom

In this world, there are things we can never explain. Phenomena we fail to believe. Practicality blocking our view of the unheeded world. To say our grasp on reality is what empowers us to not be deceived is ironic. Because the more we bound ourselves upon words spoken by those around us, completely allowing others to decide what is and what's not, the more we are succumbing into a treacherous lie.

All those who are longing to live a more unpredictable, fascinating life are told by others to 'get a grip'. Perhaps, the only ones left who are unperturbed by the swirling mass of lies, are authors of fantasy books, and demented men. But even Tolkien, even Collins, even Riordan, even Barrie, even Colfer, authors as they may be, knows the bounds between the humane and ethereal. They know that there are no such things as Hobbits. There are no Districts that send two representatives in a kill-or-be-killed event known as Hunger Games. Greeks gods are of myth, so don't expect to be some half god, half mortal. There's no such thing as Neverland, or any flying boy who never grew up. And there's no such thing as a boy genius who managed to discover a realm of faeries and gnomes.

The truth inscribed in texts carbon dated from 400 BC, are all altered. _History, _is a word synonymous to 'deceit', a mere text filled with ratified information and foolish announcements laughed off by the men and women who made it. Making everything we know one huge lie.

Perhaps, it's hard for you to accept such a belief-aggravating conclusion, but I speak virtue of what I've learned, and witnessed.

My name's Hermione Granger. A muggle, a mundane, a mortal, a passerby who due to a series of unfortunate events, have been morphed, turned, transformed, transmuted, into an organism typically used in children's fantasy books and childish movies. But sadly, this isn't a book, or a movie. And even my commended wit and intellect can't do anything about it.

I've been converted.

Into a witch.

Oh, Newton, burn me now.

Everything happened in an instant.

I was walking home from school located a few blocks away from home. As usual, I carried with me my sling bag filled with my notes and some pen. I struggled carrying it with two other thick textbooks, Chemistry and Physics, but I managed.

I increased my walking pace faster than normal, which is comparable to the speed of a crawling infant. My feet were somewhat stubby, and my height average, it would be too much to ask me to walk to a speed my body is unequipped to. It'll ruin the balance incurred by my cochlea.

All of a sudden, the sky turns dim. The clouds which I vow was a previous white became dark grey, almost black, with streaks of red. Crimson red, like blood.

As though there was lightning, bright lights exploded through the thick clouds. But unlike lightning, it bore different hues, ranging from bright red, to verdure green, to a navy blue. Fireworks were unlikely this time of year. It was in the middle of August, surely, no one is that excited for New Year.

The light began to disintegrate into tinier particles, like photons, only much more visible and fell from the sky like snow. Placing my books down, I extended my left palm and felt one emerald droplet, and watched as it dematerialized into a wisp of olive green smoke, that I heard as a faint whisper. I felt my body shudder. The sound was very close to a human whimper.

Judging by the dull surroundings and the mysterious play of lights above, something was happening, possibly some kind of storm that's messing with the electromagnetic spectrum. I bent down once more and furiously tried to pick up the pieces of paper that fell when I leaned over.

"_Reducto!_"

As though a twister spontaneously formed in the middle of nowhere, a strong gust of high pressurized and condensed gas crashed through the pavement, leaving me a few feet to spare. I stared at the once amiable and clean cement, which is now a mound of cracked hearth, dust and rubble.

"Oh shit." I barely cussed in my entire life, but the situation that I've just witnessed yanked it out of esophagus and to my tongue.

"_Incendio._"

The wind…phenomena, perhaps could still be explained by Math or Science. The lights, sure. The weird gray clouds that eerily seems to form a hundred skulls, yeah.

But a whirlwind of blue flame forming a colossal serpent in the sky, in the middle of August, on a Tuesday, in a private neighborhood…unexplainable.

A loud grunt was heard to the area the blaze was directed at, and I wasn't that surprised to find a man drop from the air, holding a broom, and crashing towards the floor. Gravity put aside, a few inches from the solid ground, he stopped mid-air, his entire body a few distance away from getting crushed and splattered.

I watched silently, my bum no longer hanging a few feet from the ground but actually sitting on it. Matters regarding bacteria, health and hygiene did not enter my mind, for I was stunned silent. Completely immobilized by what I've just seen, heard and felt.

A black hooded figure emerged form the dark mists. Even from where I sat, I could sense his or her overpowering aura. An exuberant overconfidence that's at par with mine, if we were to meet in a Science Contest.

He stuck one limp and translucent hand out of the robe's sleeve, a twig…no, a stick, held perfectly still in his grasp. He pointed it towards the man who lied limp on the floor. His breathing rough and his knuckles clenched.

"For a highly reputable man, you're awfully an amateur." His voice made me raise my brow. It sounded as though he was experiencing a strong case of pneumonia. For the way he spoke was a bit breathy, exhaling through his mouth than his mucus clogged nostrils.

"I do commend you though, grateful even, for amusing me for the past few minutes," He stabbed the stick into the limp man's head, making me squirm. "_Avada Kedavra._"

The man's clenched knuckles relaxed and slowly began to uncurl. Good that he didn't seem to experience any more pain. Bad, because, well, he seems to be dead. Well, almost.

"_Expecto patronum…_" A silvery wisp began to encircle his frame playfully, before taking the form a tall chimera, of a lion and a wolf. Like a real wild animal, it approached the body on the floor, and began to devour the man, by the flesh.

I could no longer suppress it. I released a loud yelp.

The robed figure shot his, its', head towards me. And what I saw made me want to scream some more.

He or it was a very ugly creature, almost demonic, and for certain way more terrible than Showbiz's interpretation of E.T. His lips curled into a wicked grin as he slowly made his way towards me.

I tried to run, but he whispered something incoherent under his breath, which, paralyzed me. I couldn't move a single voluntary muscle in my body, and my eyes were focused into his inhuman ones.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He lifted my chin and inspected my face, as though I was some kind of specimen in a laboratory. "A muggle, a highly intelligent one. Such alluring eyes, my dear."

Despite knowing it was a futile attempt, I tried to tug my face from his grip and away from his disturbing scrutiny. But alas, it didn't work.

"_Legilimens,_" He whispered, and I felt something inside me stir. The intensity of his gaze grew and his eyelids closed, as though he was trying to savor something. "Quite a remarkable find."

"What the bloody hell are you?" I managed to choke out, even though his firm hold on my chin made it a tad bit difficult to move my mouth.

He seems to be expecting the question, and his correct assumption made his nauseating grin grow wider. "What do you think?"

"A…a….," I muttered trying to analyze my thoughts. He's got a flat…awfully flat nose, the reason why his voice sounded so weird. He has a very pale skin, with the flow of blood through his veins and arteries almost visible because of its transparency. "Mutated Homo sapien."

"I like to retract 'highly intelligent'. Guess again."

My eyes scanned his black robes. It was made out of fine silk, for it had a bright sheen. "Gregorian monk?"

I saw his eye twitch, and felt a tug on my lips. Although the sensation of fear is still buzzing through me, I couldn't help but be amused of playing the role of a naïve idiot. It was a habit of mine to use reverse psychology by making them think I was stupid, by making them feel stupid, thus showcasing how obviously smart I was.

Well, you get the point.

He raised his stick of his and gently caressed my cheek. "This is a clue."

A makeshift magic emitting object.

"Ah," I looked up to him and grinned, "A cosplayer."

He yanked a bundle of my hair and whispered venomously in my ear. "Very annoying, I like it."

I felt him trace something on my chest using his stick.

"Perv—" I was about to protest when I felt something literally trying to take over my mind. A powerful electrostatic force buzzed through my neurons. I arched my back with the pain, gritting my teeth to avoid biting my tongue.

I felt my vision blur and found my surroundings turning black.

But before I could finally release my hold of the real world, I heard him whisper into my ear.

"When the time comes, we'll meet again, Miss Hermione Granger."


End file.
